Children of the Commonwealth
by FalloutGuy1986
Summary: Thirteen year old Ezra Banks has only one thing on his mind. Protecting his nine year old sister Syble. Nobody in the Commonwealth means as much to him. But when he meets Daniel Sorrows, the Sole Survivor of vault 111, Ezra has a tough choice to make. Does he continue to hide away with his sister alone or join Daniel and his funny robot assistant in helping find his missing child?
1. Ezra and Syble

The assault could have been worse.

This was the only thought racing through the troubled mind of thirteen-year-old Ezra Banks. He huddled next to the rough and worn bricks that built one of thousands of tall buildings in post nuclear war Boston, Massachusetts. His arms were wrapped around the quaking body of his nine-year-old sister Syble.

Ezra replayed the mugging which had occurred only a scant few minutes prior.

A dirty, smelly, disheveled and obviously high woman wearing cobbled together steel fragments upon her shoulders and wrapped around her thighs whose face evidenced the mud and blood which smeared her cheeks and forehead had chanced upon the children, pointing her ten-millimeter pistol at Ezra's chest before he had a chance to raise the barrel of his own makeshift pistol pieced together of steel and wood.

With her other hand, the raider junkie pushed the deep burgundy bangs of her filthy hair, styled down from what resembled a mohawk style if it had suffered through weeks of radiation-filled rain storms followed by a blow-drying of sorts by the dust-filled winds.

The only thing the young boy could do was raise his hands in surrender as the raider flashed her crooked grin. His body shielded his younger sister from the raider as he stepped backward nearer to the dark red brick apartment building.

The raider had insisted that all she desired from the pair was his cap sack and not his life. She seemed nearly apologetic when she had realized just how young her new marks were. However, her faltering high and the threat of chem withdrawal spurred her desperation for the Commonwealth's resident currency. Therefore, she felt as though she could not relent. Her reputation – as well as her high – was at stake and so she could not exempt the two children.

Ezra fought to remain calm as he slowly handed the woman his cap sack. She looked inside and made a quick estimate.

"Nearly fifty caps." The raider mused, "Not bad, kid."

Ezra said nothing, only looked at the raider woman with a look of concern. She pocketed the caps without lowering her pistol and she winked at the boy before slowly walking backward, her aim never wavering.

When the woman disappeared around the corner, Ezra finally allowed himself to breathe deeply. His heart pounded in his chest at how near he and Syble may have been to simply no longer existing. The Commonwealth was tough and, to a thirteen-year-old, at times scary place. But he had Syble and he had his pistol. Life was rough, but he knew if he let his sister down – let himself down – that life had not a single chance of becoming better for them. His faith waned more and more each day of things ever changing, but Ezra looked to Syble and he swore to himself that he would always keep fighting, keep hoping for a better life not for himself, but for her.

Ezra believed that wish had nearly been snuffed out along with his and Syble's lives.

He cursed his lack of awareness before he turned and knelt beside the huddled and trembling form of his sister.

Syble raised her big blue eyes to meet his smaller green ones in a silent question of their safety.

"Next time I won't get caught off guard." Ezra promised her.

Tears flowed from Syble's eyes and travelled down her dirty cheeks, marking them. She sniffed as her mind tried to decide whether to act like a big girl for her brother or to allow her inner child to show through after the frightening threat of violence.

Ezra flicked his eyes to the horizon just over the many tall buildings of downtown Boston.

"Come on," Ezra urged, "The sun's going down."

Syble wiped her eyes and stood awkwardly, her slight four-foot frame shivering with the combination of the cool air and her fright.

"That's right," Ezra responded, "You remember how I taught you never to walk around at night, right?"

Syble wiped her eyes again and cleared her throat.

"If it's night, there is fright." Syble mumbled as she recalled the rhyme Ezra had told her many times.

"Right." Ezra confirmed, "We need to find shelter."

"One door, three walls, bad guys will fall." Syble recited from memory.

"Exactly." Ezra smiled.

Ezra lifted the barrel of his cobbled together pistol and slowly made his way around the brick building, his green eyes narrowing in concentration. He looked to where his father had once told him human enemies would likely hide.

He scanned the streets that traversed the buildings which lined both sides. He checked the roofs of the buildings as far as he could. As he turned his head to ensure his and his sister's safety he spotted a single raider just down the street from him perched on the crumbling roof of a three-story apartment complex.

"Shit." He whispered as he crouched.

His eyes focused to the cemetery on his near right and he took Syble's hand and the pair quickly jogged to the brick wall and the wrought iron fence. The cemetery was square shaped and was covered by wall and wrought iron on each side except for the front gate which featured five steps leading from the cemetery grounds to the sidewalk.

Ezra moved toward the steps but Syble held back.

"Ghouls?" She whispered.

"I know, Syble. I know, but ghouls are slow. There's a raider up on top of that building. He'll see us if we walk that way."

Syble was afraid, it showed on her face. Ezra holstered his pistol and produced a twelve-inch-long combat knife. The scratched but still shiny steel looked enormous in Ezra's small hand. He gripped the handle tightly and gave Syble his best reassuring smile. She gulped but she was really a brave little girl.

She nodded and Ezra slowly led the nine-year-old past the damaged cemetery gate. Slow as he could he crept through the soft overgrown grass and weeds and dirt, in between headstones and the skeletal remains of trees. As often as Ezra had experienced the wasteland in his thirteen years of life, he had to admit that this part was always scary to him. He had trouble above him down the street leading to one of hundreds of small camps that Ezra and Syble had created in the two years they had been alone and so the pair were forced to make their way through a large, eerie graveyard.

Ezra stopped suddenly and held Syble back with one hand. She immediately gasped and pressed her hands across her lips at the sight of the deathly slim form of a feral ghoul. The husk was a human being at one point in time, before the atomic bombs fell across America destroying everything that had ever been and forcing mankind to take shelter in underground fallout shelters called vaults, Ezra recalled. He knew that the ghoul had absorbed a lethal amount of radiation, but due to some unknown twist of fate the person did not die. The person had ghoulified. The skin fell from this person's muscle in ribbons and before long he became a hideously mutated shell of his former self. After two-hundred years his brain had finally rotted to the point where he could no longer tell right from wrong, friend from foe. He only felt hunger and he had lost the ability to reason, finally having become more or less a zombie.

Ezra also knew that the ghouls could not see well in the dark. Their perception was much weaker than a normal human's. The thirteen-year-old looked deeply into Syble's eyes and warned her with only that one look to hide behind their current gravestone, belonging to a Gerald Seaver, and to under no circumstances follow him until he told her.

It was a look Syble knew well.

Ezra looked back to the ghoul blocking their path and crept slowly from behind the gravestone. Luckily the ghoul faced the rear wall, therefore the ghoul presented its back to Ezra. The boy crept along as silent as the night that descended across the Commonwealth. His eyes never left the husk of a man as his feet carried him nearer and nearer. As Ezra came to within two feet of the monster he leapt as quietly as he could onto the creature's back. He wrapped his arm around the beast's throat as it roved left and right trying to dislodge the human who was riding the ghoul.

Ezra pulled his right arm back before thrusting the sharpened steel of his combat knife deep into the ghoul's skull. The sudden intrusion into the ghoul's brain killed it instantly and Ezra fell from his back landing painfully on his knees.

Ezra breathed, but the piece did not last as a high-pitched scream pierced the silence. Ezra spun around to find himself face to face with another of the irradiated ghouls. He barely got his arms up before the ghoul had grabbed him. His left hand fought to block the creature's salivating jaws by pushing its chin upward and away from his body.

The ghoul was much larger than Ezra. With the last of his arm's strength waning Ezra thrust his knife into the ghoul's skin. The stab which he had intended for the creature's throat instead went awry and the blade of the combat knife was embedded in the ghoul's chest.

The ghoul growled in pain before battering Ezra's right hand with its left. The impact knocked the blade from his hand and it fell to the cobblestone path with a metallic clang. Ezra's right hand moved to push with all of his might, but the ghoul's jaws inched closer and closer to Ezra's neck.

Ezra felt the hot saliva drooling on his skin and he stared into the soulless, dead eyes which saw nothing more than Ezra's exposed flesh. The sharp, yellow teeth that remained in the ghoul's ravenous maw shone in what was left of the sunlight.

Ezra's strength failed. As the creature's mouth rushed toward Ezra's fresh neck Ezra froze and contemplated.

He wondered why the weight of the creature seemed not so great anymore. He wondered why the ghoul had stopped just short of ripping his flesh apart for its own sustenance.

Ezra opened his eyes and stared into the soulless, now lifeless, eyes of the ghoul that had just the moment before been on the winning end.

He then turned his eyes just to the right of the imposing monster. He saw Syble. He noticed the combat knife in her hand. And he noticed the blade embedded deep into the ghoul's rotting skull.

Syble was drenched in blood but she stood shaking, tears flowing at the deep tension that had just resulted. Syble dropped the knife as if she had been burnt by it, its blade never escaping the ghoul's skull even an inch. She backed away with her blood-stained hands to her mouth.

Ezra thought swiftly and pushed the big ghoul off of his body. He stood on legs made weak by the great amount of effort it took to escape the jaws of death. He approached Syble and moved to his knees. She stared at him in shock, her wide-open eyes never blinking and her red stained hands never leaving her speechless mouth.

Syble had taken her first life.

"Syble, honey. Just breathe." Ezra began.

She dropped to her rear on the cobblestone path in the center of the cemetery and cried while she stared at the ghoul's lifeless body, having finally become the corpse that it had portrayed for two-hundred and ten years.

Ezra slid over toward her and cradled her in his arms, softly shushing her as he rocked her shuddering body.

"I… I killed…" Syble tried before sobs racked her once again.

"You saved my life." Ezra cooed.

Those words became a mantra he repeated time and again as he rocked the nine-year-old under the last rays of fast fading light.

Several minutes later under the dim light of a crackling fire, Ezra watched a gently sleeping Syble.

She had stayed awake long enough to eat a bowl of noodles and a mutfruit. Ezra ate only a stale television dinner of Salisbury steak and a few sips of purified water before insisting that Syble drink the rest of that too. Ezra's stomach growled but he felt he had absorbed enough nutrients to at least keep him going for another day whereas Syble was resting on a full stomach.

That was the most important thing to Ezra.

He felt weak, sure, as he moved about during the day looking for important food, weapons and caps in the dilapidated buildings that dotted downtown Boston. But his priority was always Syble.

She hadn't said a word since the Cemetery debacle. She had originally poked at her noodles until Ezra insisted that she eat every bite. Hunger finally made her cave and she ate the noodles and mutfruit to the last bite. She had felt bad when Ezra opened up the small Salisbury steak dinner and heated it over the fire. However, one simple look made her turn her head away. She was still sad for him, but she didn't try to push the issue of her eating more than him.

She wouldn't understand, Ezra thought. She could never understand.

This was one of the safe camps that Ezra dreaded the most. A parking structure only a twenty-minute walk from the danger zone that he and Syble had strolled through made up the base. The upper tier was safe due to a pile up of rusted out cars and trucks creating a natural barrier to deter anything on foot. There was only one entrance and that was the stairwell as the former entrance to the parking structure had mostly collapsed leaving only one or two miniscule openings in the debris.

But once Ezra and Syble hopped the cement railing into the stairwell they could descend into the structure itself. They followed the cement car ramp down one level and into the rather spacious lower tier. It was mostly devoid of cars except one full sized car forever stuck on the ramp leading up toward the main tier and a tiny single seat vehicle which had exploded long ago leaving only the skeletal remains of sharp, twisted metal.

The exit door that led from the lower parking tier and into whatever building the parking structure represented had been nailed shut by Ezra shortly after he had discovered the fateful find. Ezra and Syble spent the day looting several nearby residences and commercial buildings for the meager luxuries the hideout allowed.

One red leather easy chair upon which Syble now slept. Wood enough for months of camp fires and stone and brick enough to encircle the blazing wood for safety's sake. An old worn out Armature where Ezra stored whatever food and water he could find. It was barren at the moment save for one bottle of purified water he was saving for the next day. One chest of drawers in which Ezra and Syble stored their clothing. The left side was Ezra's, while Syble utilized the right side. One frayed round rug of diminishing color. Finally, one badly damaged basketball backboard and hoop which was missing its net. A basketball inhabited the corner of the room closest to the hoop which held air surprisingly well. It was a rare find.

Ezra poked at the fire once more before he looked at the still form of his sister, sleeping deeply in a nearby red leather easy chair.

He smoothed Syble's hair, who had curled up on the soft chair cushion to sleep. He drew her blanket tighter around her shoulders and she moved gently, mumbling in her sleep before settling once more beneath the fabric.

He grinned at her softly snoring form and unrolled his sleeping bag onto the hard concrete. The lack of any other form of furniture in this campsite made the uncomfortable cement floor the only option he had. The sleeping bag was thin and he had no pillow, but his joints and bones ached from the tough travels the pair had taken to get here.

And so, before long exhaustion outweighed the discomfort and he drifted off into a deep sleep beside the crackling fire.


	2. This is It

Syble stared at the combat knife she held in both hands as she sat upon the dusty curb. The swath of dried blood and the naturally occurring rust that marred the blade began to run together as fresh tears filled the nine-year-old's eyes. They seemed to mix and blurred until Syble sniffed, swiping the forearm of a one-size-too-large dark purple hoodie across her eyes in an attempt to clear the tears from her eyes.

Her immature mind berated her with guilt for what she had done. She had saved Ezra's life by killing what was to her a once living, breathing soul. The shredded remnants of her innocence could not conceive that what once had been a person was lost, with no more purpose than to stagger the world with dim vacant eyes as it mindlessly devoured the flesh of man or in yesterday's events, even a young boy.

Syble dropped the knife to the concrete with a deep sigh and dragged her small hand across the rough and torn black denim she wore. The scant few flakes of dried blood that had fallen from the silver blade onto the back of her white hand were dislodged, a few flakes taking flight like drunken gnats while others dropped to the concrete beneath her.

Syble rested her head against the dark red bricks and felt the coolness soothe her aching head. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply as she tried to shake the dark thoughts from her head.

Ezra shifted his stance from leaning against the door jamb a few feet away from where Syble sat, keeping lookout while the pair relaxed from their journey from their temporary makeshift camp on their way to… Ezra didn't really know. Diamond City was far and there existed many super mutants and raiders between the kids and the Great Green Jewel of the Commonwealth.

Bunker Hill, the trade hub was another option, and closer. But Ezra knew from passing trading caravans that there were vicious raider camps located around the settlement that would love nothing more than to torture Ezra into joining their gang before doing who knew what to his beloved sister.

Ezra was not afraid of raider gangs, he knew they were human and therefore relatively weak to gun fire. Super mutants were a different story as their size and their thick skin made them more or less bullet sponges.

However, Ezra was no fool. He wouldn't take on even the newest raider recruit in order to get to Bunker Hill. Regardless of pride and guts, he knew they were no match for raider forces armed only with his homemade pipe pistol and Syble's combat knife. They would be overpowered in moments, the page of their minute chapter in the history of the Commonwealth violently ripped out and thrown into the fire. Their contributions would be nil and for a reason that Ezra couldn't fully comprehend, the thought niggled at him and he just… could not allow that to happen. He wanted to be somebody. He wanted Syble to realize her dreams. He had to find a way out of the pit of despair, the life of hunting around the scant number of safer locations in the Commonwealth for food and caps and medicine to keep himself and Syble alive for one more day.

Since they had abandoned the small parking garage at 5:00 am that morning to move on in search of caps and supplies to replace what the raider woman had stolen from them the day before, he had found a few boxes of Salisbury steak and a stash of sixteen bottlecaps. He sighed with frustration but shook his head and offered Syble a smile.

"This is a good day so far, Syble." Ezra had announced as he presented one of the three boxes of steaks to her.

Syble's face lit up in a beatific smile that made Ezra happy. She was always so downcast and melancholy every day. In the rare instances when she smiled or lit up as she was doing when she dug into the meat and vegetables and her favorite – apple cobbler – it was enough to make the aftermath of atomic annihilation seem like it wasn't so bad.

Ezra stood from the chipped paint that still covered the rough wooden door jamb and looked back to Syble. His face was concerned as he knelt before his sister looking into her soft round face.

"You know that if you hadn't killed that creature that I would be dead right now and you would probably be too." Ezra reminded her. Syble's face took on a hard and angry edge.

"Don't you see?" Syble demanded, "I've never killed anything before!"

"Well, Sib, don't take this too badly but it is time you learned." Ezra said softly as he tried to reason with his sibling.

"I don't want to Ezra! I just want the bad people to leave me alone! Is it so bad for me to be peaceful?"

"Syble, please lower your voice. You don't know who can hear us." Ezra whispered desperately.

Syble was quiet for a long time. Her face had reddened from her bout of anger and while she thought silently her anger was not abating.

Ezra heard the crunch of glass from somewhere to his right.

"Syble, hide!" Ezra whispered. But she refused to budge. Syble simply drew her denim covered knees to her chest and wrapped her purple fleece hoodie wrapped arms around them before resting her dirty blonde hair on them.

"Syble!" Ezra tried shaking her.

"Would it be so bad just to die?" Syble said, trying to keep her voice down but clearly still angry.

Ezra took Syble by the arms and drew her to a standing position. She finally relented with a curse and began to follow him but the footsteps were already sounding a few feet away. Ezra dropped to a knee and pointed his pipe pistol at the area where the footsteps were sounding, drawing nearer and nearer.

"This is it." Ezra breathed.

A man standing more than six feet tall rounded the corner gripping a double-barreled shotgun tightly in his hands. He breathed a sigh as his eyes scanned. The click of a weapon's safety mechanism caught his attention and the man slowly turned his large head toward the sound.

Ezra crouched with the barrel of his pistol pointed squarely at the man's head which was the least armored part of his body as it sported only a beaten and weather worn top hat.

"Stand still or I swear to god that I will shoot you dead!" Ezra demanded.

The man smirked and offered a sympathetic laugh.

"There is no god, son. But you won't be needing that pistol." The man stated amiably with a wide grin.

Ezra recoiled. Raiders never attempted to speak to him and this strange man's first words seemed to sum up most of his personality. He was obviously atheistic, which his mother had told him before she died were not more than raiders in better clothing. After all, how could somebody be moral if…

But he also did not fire on them or attempt to take their meager possessions. The man's affirmation that Ezra wouldn't need his pistol, did that mean that the man meant them no harm?

"I hold on to what I can in this fucked up world." Ezra said. "Shouldn't you be out somewhere sacrificing a cat for Satan or something?"

The man chuckled, a sound which built into a mighty guffaw.

"I like you, kid." The man admitted when his laughter died down, "but us atheists believe in Satan as much as we believe in god."

Ezra lowered his pistol but didn't holster it. He looked the man over with a critical eye.

The man wasn't a giant per se, but he stood at roughly six feet and three inches. His body was hidden at the moment by a well-fitting black coat that had three of its four buttons attached allowing Ezra to see a stained white button up shirt beneath. A burgundy tie evidenced at least a bit of sophistication. However well-hidden his body was however, Ezra could tell that the man was strong, athletic and muscular.

He wore dark green combat cargo pants on his legs and black combat boots on his feet. His eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses at the moment and his tall black top hat hid most of his hair but what wasn't hidden beneath the hat flowed down the back of his neck to touch his shoulders in curls. The dark wine color matched a short-trimmed chin goatee perfectly. He had a thick nose and equally thick lips that seemed to be eternally shaped into a good-humored grin.

"See something you like?" the man inquired.

Ezra ignored the comment.

"So, you're not going to hurt us?" Ezra wondered incredulously.

"If I was going to hurt you," the man pointed behind the pair, "She would have taken the first shot."

Ezra whirled around to see a shining white Mrs. Handy robot hovering behind them.

"Bonjour!" she stated cheerfully.

"What? How?" Ezra stammered, turning back to the man who chuckled that booming chuckle once more.

"Her name's Curie. Picked her up in vault 88 and we've been raising the roof out here ever since."

The brother and sister turned once again to glance at Curie curiously.

"He just really, really loves the nineties. I am sure I do not understand." Curie explained. Ezra noticed her heavy French accent and decided it was cute.

"Are you completely fucking insane?" Ezra stated in quiet amazement.

The man cocked his head and shrugged.

"Only a little. I'm Dan Sorrows by the way." He stated as he lit a cigar and took a deep drag.

"And you, and…you." Dan said pointing first at Ezra and then at Syble who hid bashfully behind her brother. "Don't think I didn't notice you little lady. It looks like you're pretty radical to be out here in the crazy wastes of Beantown by yourselves. You got a caravan or something hidden away?"

"I'm Ezra Banks and this is my sister Syble. We've been alone for… for years." Ezra said, finally breaking down and letting at least the tip of the iceberg out.

Ezra's vision swam and he believed he was crying but as he spoke his words became a jumble of hard to understand slurs. Ezra closed his eyes and never felt himself fall.

Dan winced and Syble screamed as Ezra fell to the pavement. The big man knelt to the ground before the boy and checked his pulse.

"Goodnight sweet prince. Curie, what can you tell me?" Dan said.

Syble threw her body protectively over her fallen brother.

Dan shook his head and his grin never strayed.

"Listen sweetheart," Dan cooed.

"Syble." She said harshly.

"That's a pretty name, Syble. But you see, you're gonna have to get your backside off him."

"You're gonna hurt him!"

Dan chuckled again, removed his hat and ran his fingers through his wine-colored hair before replacing the top hat once again.

"Curie here isn't just a pretty mechanical engineering masterpiece."

"Oh, Daniel, not now." Curie said softly. If a robot could blush she would have been from Daniel's smooth words.

"She is also a state of the art medical robot." Dan said, ignoring Curie's quip.

The fire in Syble's eyes grew dimmer.

"So... so she can…"

"She will make a quick diagnosis and then I think it would be wise for you two to come with me to Bunker Hill at least so we can get a better read on the poor boy."

Syble nodded and moved back to sit on the curb as Curie floated toward Ezra.

"Running the diagnostics. Heart rate is normal. Blood pressure is a bit low. He shows signs of… Hmm. The body is too small for his age, eyes are sunken." Curie spoke aloud as she prodded Ezra's body and scanned him with her three round monitors.

"Do you have something Curie?" Dan asked.

"This child is obviously suffering from extreme malnourishment. We should take him to Bunker Hill immediately to rehydrate and nourish him."

"That's a deal then." Dan said clapping Curie on the side of her spherical chassis. He looked to Sybil.

"You up for a trip squirt?" Dan asked.

"Will my brother be okay?" Sybil asked.

"Yes I think so. You both have to come with us to Bunker Hill right now though."

"What about the raiders?"

Dan again chuckled.

"Honey, killing raiders is our specialty. If you're talking about Judge Zeller's puissant excuse for an army, they've been dead for like two weeks now."

Dan's explanation was flippant enough to cease all worry in Sybil's mind. She nodded slowly and Dan knelt to pick Ezra up and he began carrying Ezra in his arms back the way he came.

"Be sure to keep an eye on our six," Dan said softly to Curie, "Just in case, ya know."

"Not to worry, I have three monitors."

Dan's eyes widened and his bushy eyebrows rose mirthfully.

"And I'll sure as hell be keeping an eye on YOUR six." Dan spoke before waggling his eyebrows.

"Oh, Daniel," Curie responded slightly embarrassed, "These things you say!"

Dan laughed loudly.

"You love me." Dan responded confidently as he strode past the confused robot carrying Ezra's limp body in both arms.


	3. The IV Escapades

"Who is this child? What happened?"

Daniel climbed the three rickety stairs that led into Bunker Hill's infirmary shack, his heavy boots thudding on the plywood floor beneath his heavy weight.

The shanty looked to be built of splintering, centuries old wood strewn together with rusty nails and duct tape. A disturbingly ugly amalgamation of yet more splintering wood, rusted sheet metal and what used to be a good-looking blue bedsheet made up the meager roof that barely kept rain away from the Doctor's well-stocked infirmary.

Dan moved toward a nearby gurney and lay the thirteen-year-old upon it as gently as his thickly-muscled bulk would allow and wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow.

"Me and Curie found the kid and his little sis two miles away scavenging. We talked and then the big guy took a tumble." Dan answered.

"My preliminary diagnosis is severe malnutrition, Doctor Kay." Curie advised.

Bunker Hill's sole medical practitioner raised Ezra's shirt displaying the unhealthy lack of muscle development among the boy's torso as well as his protruding ribs.

"Boy sure hasn't been eating his Wheaties, for sure." Kay said gruffly.

"It's all my fault!" Syble whined from behind Dan and Curie.

All three turned to look at the small girl.

"He was feeding me and he barely ate anything at all. I tried to make him eat but he wouldn't. He just told me I needed food more than he did."

Tears filled her eyes as she blamed herself. Her own darkened mind whispered to her that she deserved to be where Ezra was. Her twisted thoughts told her that she was to blame.

 _If I were never born, then maybe he would be safe. If he didn't have to feed me then he would be awake right now._ Syble thought grimly.

"A girl's gotta eat." Dan said, "It isn't your fault."

Syble turned her head away.

"If I wasn't…" she breathed.

"No need for any of that now." Dan said smiling his most reassuring smile at the girl.

He knelt before her and touched her chin, a silent gesture for her to look up at him.

"I heard that. It's a huge load of mole rat scat."

Syble lowered her eyebrows and scowled.

"Bad jokes aside I'm willing to bet you argue sometimes but the boy sure loves you."

"You don't know anything about us!" Syble shot back.

"No, little girl, I sure don't," Dan admitted with a chuckle, "But I'd sure like to. Stick around a while and see if you don't come around. Hmm?"

"Lovely," Kay deadpanned as she snapped a pair of gloves onto her hands,

"Curie, I need your injectors. And I'll need something from you Dan as well, so get your butt over here."

Kay swore as she prepped a tiny dose of Buffout in a beaker.

"Of course, Doctor Kay, I am happy to be of assistance." Curie spoke, her French accent lilting.

Curie floated toward Doctor Kay and hovered before her, offering up one of her four segmented metal arms. Out popped a sterile syringe, still wrapped tight in its protective plastic packaging.

Kay ripped the plastic away from the syringe and discarded the plastic protective covering from the sharp needle. Kay poured the diluted Buffout into the syringe and flicked the utensil with her fingernail assuring there were no bubbles to be found in the liquid inside.

"Alright, Curie inject him please." Kay announced.

She turned to Daniel as his robotic companion gently pressed the needle into Ezra's skin.

"Daniel, I need you to make a trip. Take the shortest route to Diamond City. Find Doctor Sun and tell him I need an IV bag. He should have several."

Kay began writing on a small piece of paper as she spoke with the pen's cap between her lips.

"What I will need is an infusion of water, electrolytes and nutrients. I don't expect you to remember the medical language, so I am writing it down. Give this prescription to Doctor Sun and return here with the I.V. in less than twelve hours. Is that possible?"

"Should take less than ten if I book it. Get the lead out and all that jazz."

"Good. Leave now. Curie and I will watch the girl and make sure the lad is stable until you arrive. If he wakes then we will introduce food and water slowly, but the I.V. is probably the quickest way to rehydrate and nourish him without risk of him getting sick. So, in other words, get going."

Dan grinned wide and clapped the Doctor on the shoulder.

"Adios it is then."

Dan tipped his top hat to the ladies present, winked at Syble who glared at him and made his exit.

The hike to Diamond city was uneventful as Dan knew the alleyways and shortcuts like the back of his hand. He was able to avoid all raider entanglements and although he nearly awakened a sleeping ghoul, he caught himself and crept through the house as silently as he could. He managed to escape that battle which would cost him precious time.

The great green jewel caught his eye after three hours of walking and skulking through Boston's many byways. He approached the great yawning entryway and breathed in the smell of dirt, dogs and watered-down beer.

"Feels like home." He said as he nodded to Security Chief Danny Sullivan on his way up the stairs.

Once inside he paused to take a look around. The view of Dan's favorite ball park turned shanty town never ceased to take his breath away.

The only place that held more memories for him was his own home in Sanctuary Hills. He found himself coming to Diamond city – what he knew as Fenway Park more than two-hundred years before – more than his home at Sanctuary. When he wandered through the town house he once called home he found it impossible to break away from the whispers of his wife and child – one dead and one missing. He was haunted by their ghosts day in and day out.

And then there was Gravy.

Dan's grin disappeared and he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples at the thought of that fanatical, starry eyed dreamer who seemed to know only three phrases.

" _That's great news. But I know of another settlement that needs your help."_

" _That's fantastic news. But I've found a spot that would make for a great new settlement. You know how it is."_

" _That's wonderful news. But one of our settlements is having a problem with raiders/kidnappings/super mutants."_

Preston Garvey – or Gravy as Daniel Sorrows liked to call him - seemed to be able only to tell Dan what level of "good news" a certain completed task represented and to immediately tell him of other one-dimensional settlers and the problems they never could seem to solve themselves.

Dan had told Gravy to go fuck himself after the third repetitive conversation, that he might consider doing whatever it was Gravy wanted later. Much, much, much later. Gravy had whined that this wasn't helping the Minutemen's cause and that there were frightened, useless settlers out there who needed their hands held every time they had to take a shit in the outhouse at night.

Settlers who needed help killing the three radroaches that live in their barn.

Settlers who needed their dicks aimed while they piss in exchange for joining the Minutemen. A consolation prize that Dan could honestly believe would be entirely fruitless. Dan scarcely believed that any of these weak pathetic settlers would ever do anything in return for solving their problems all by his lonesome.

Dan sighed with no small amount of irritation at his thoughts. His weathered brown boots crunched the gravel and dirt beneath his heels as he sauntered past the Publick Occurrences building.

"Hi Blue! Ready for that interview?"

"Piss off, Piper. You and your quirky dialogue." Dan muttered as he skulked his way past her.

"Hmm. Maybe another time then." She answered.

Dan ignored her and made his way to Sun's medical shack. He idly wondered why, if every medical station was either located in a crumbling wooden ruin or outside in a field somewhere, more people didn't just die of dysentery.

Dan gave three sharp raps on one of the metal pillars holding the small infirmary standing. Doctor sun turned sharply with a muttered curse.

Dan perked up and smiled at the Doctor. He slipped the prescription note from his pocket and handed it to the Doctor.

"Kay in Bunker Hill needs that… stuff." Dan said, his voice booming throughout the small room.

"Rehydration… nutrients… one of my I.V.s." Doctor Sun mumbled to himself as he moved toward the back wall and a chest of drawers. Opening the middle drawer Dan was surprised to see a shaft of blue light appear from within.

"How'd you do that?" Dan wondered, shifting from standing on one heavy boot to the other.

"I devised this cryo drawer from technology found in vault 111." Doctor Sun stated before placing the I.V. bag inside a hard metal protective case. Dan nodded to Doctor Sun with a closed lipped smile.

"Ahem. Two-Hundred caps." Sun said humorlessly.

"Oh. Right, I suppose you want me to pay for… Oh my God, look, a deathclaw!" Dan tried, pointing behind Sun in mock terror.

Doctor Sun merely cleared his throat, not believing the obvious lie.

"Two-hundred caps." Sun reiterated, holding his hand aloft.

"Fine." Dan sighed, "Let me count them out for you."

"Much better." Sun stated, "Now leave."

"Mighty fine day to you. Much obliged." Dan said before tipping his top hat and leaving the medical stand.

Dan pushed the thought of grabbing a few drinks at the Dugout Inn from his mind. Shaking his head, he thought of Ezra. He climbed the stairs once again to leave Diamond City behind again.

Syble hung back two paces behind the busily working Curie and Kay as they moved left and right examining Ezra's lanky frame. She held her hands to her mouth as if in fear that any noise she made might cause her big brother's condition to worsen. She held her breath before Kay stood straight once more, removing her gloves and tossing them. She swept her hand through her hair and smiled at Curie.

Curie hovered to where Syble was waiting with bated breath.

"Miss Syble, your brother appears to be in stable condition."

Syble allowed herself to breath deeply for the first time in several hours. Tears fell from her eyes and she fell to her backside, relief washing over her.

"The Buffout has given Ezra strength and a stimpack has sort of jump started his immune system and his breathing and heart rate are normal." Curie reported.

"Is he… is he going to…?" Syble began but did not know how to finish the thought.

"He will survive. We have bought the sole survivor some time. He will pull through and you will see your brother standing in another twenty-four hours."

Syble dried her eyes and managed a smile for the robot.

"Thank you, Curie. And thank you Doctor Kay." Syble managed.

"You are welcome. But you both need to be eating right. I will do what I can to teach you after your brother wakes up." Kay admonished before turning back to helping Ezra.

The tinny crunch of glass upon pavement stopped Daniel in his tracks. He held up an automatic combat rifle and switched the safety off. He patted one of his many coat pockets and felt the precious I.V. bag still in its rightful place.

Daniel crouched and made his way along one of the many brick walls that made up the majority of buildings among Boston's skyline. A click of a pistol made Daniel freeze.

"Hold it!" A gravelly voice called from behind him. He wished he could say he did not recognize the voice.

"God damn it! What the fuck do you want rich boy?" Daniel grunted as he turned slowly around, hands raised, only to come face to face with a teenager he knew well as Nelson Latimer.

"I saw what you bought from the Doc in Diamond City," Nelson proclaimed.

"Well if you saw what it is, smart boy, then you know you can't possibly get high on it. Good evening."

Daniel turned to go before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You haven't forgotten the hundred caps you owe me, Narco. Selling that I.V. will double my profit." Nelson stated brusquely.

"A guy enjoys one night high as a kite and all of a sudden he's got nicknames!" Dan complained.

With lightning speed, he knocked the hand from his shoulder, captured Nelson by the wrist, spun around behind him and kicked the boy's leg from behind causing Nelson to land painfully on his stomach with a grunt.

Daniel rested with a knee in the small of Nelson's back with the boy's arm wrenched painfully behind him, the appendage held tight in Daniel Sorrow's capable hands. Nelson struggled while grunting in pain.

Daniel unsheathed a kitchen knife from his belt and with a mighty thrust stabbed the sharpened steel through Nelson's hand and into his back.

"Ahh! Don't kill me!" Nelson screamed.

"Relax homie," Daniel spoke calmly and sarcastically, "If I wanted you dead, it wouldn't take much from this position. All I gots to do is push just a bit harder and this knife will push deep into your back and you my stupid, stupid lad, will never experience another hit of Jet."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry mister!" Nelson shouted.

"You are sorry," Daniel quipped with a grin, "The sorriest excuse for a little junkie bastard that I have ever seen. What the actual fuck would you want with a god damned I.V. that would _double your money_ as you put it?"

"I was… gonna sell it to a contact in Goodneighbor!" Nelson confessed.

"Yeah? And then a little thirteen-year-old boy wouldn't get it and he would probably die." Daniel chastised.

"You don't think much do ya, squirt?"

"Ouch! I'll split it with you!" Nelson promised.

Daniel rolled his eyes and twisted the knife embedded in Nelson's hand. Nelson's screams echoed off the brick buildings.

"Wrong answer, buck. You are just itching to piss me off aren't ya?"

Nelson didn't answer as he howled through the fresh wave of pain that flashed through his hand.

"You see, pissing a guy off who is on top of you with a knife poking through your jerk off hand and into your back is not good for your health. You're gonna have a bad time my dude."

"I'm sorry! I will never try to jump you again! I promise!"

"Now you see, you are an agreeable piece of garbage."

Daniel released his hold on the kid's back and pulled the knife from his hand. Nelson slowly crawled to his backside. But before Nelson could think, Daniel smashed his brick like knee into Nelson's nose and he crumbled to the ground in an unconscious heap.

"Poor little fucking loser." Daniel muttered as he stepped over the would-be mugger and onward toward Bunker Hill, now less than one hour away.

Daylight was fading throughout the commonwealth as Daniel set his eyes on the ramshackle wooden gate that separated Bunker Hill from the rest of a hostile city. Dim beams of golden light filtered through the myriad cracks and holes in the white marble structures that made up the most famous trading settlement in post-war Boston.

One of those gentle beauties touched down upon a sleeping Ezra Banks' face like a golden fairy. Syble held his hand as she trembled, eyes red with a thousand worries. Ezra's face twitched once then twice before his heavy eyelids slowly flickered open. They trembled before sliding open, moist green irises frantically jetting back and forth focusing on nothing before blurriness halted, giving way to sharp detail.

Syble noticed the hitch in her brother's breath and looked up and upon noticing her brother's eyes being opened shouting for joy to Doctor Kay and Curie to come see. Both came rushing to the gurney before stopping in their tracks beside it.

"Oh, my," Curie said happily, "It seems you are a lucky one. No more long sleep for you!"

"Where… am I?" Ezra wondered aloud. Syble took a breath.

"Right now, you are residing in beautiful Bunker Hill, trading hub of the commonwealth complete with a beautiful view of an ugly wall of wood and a beat-up obelisk of white marble. You are currently napping in Chez Doc Kay, esquire." Daniel interrupted as all eyes turned to the sole survivor.

"Do I got a boog?" Daniel wondered, scratching his nose.

"Do you have the I.V. for Christ's sake?" Kay demanded with her hands on her hips.

Daniel gasped aloud before covering his mouth with his hand. He allowed his eyes to take on a panicked look. He paced around the cobbled together wooden shack for dramatic effect.

"Oh my God," Daniel shrieked as he paced, "Between all the hookers and blow I damn well forgot to pick up the fucking I.V.!"

"Damn it…!" Kay began before being interrupted by Dan.

He lowered the hand from his mouth and began chewing his fingernails.

"I spent all of my caps as well! I knew there was something important I was forgetting… But that God damned coke! It clouded my judgement!"

Daniel fell to his knees, causing Ezra and Syble to laugh, Curie to tsk and Kay to grow red with rage.

"Doctor! Please, I need to borrow two-hundred caps from you! We need to save this dear boy's life!"

"All right!" Kay shouted, growing tired of Daniel's unique sense of humor.

Daniel fell to his back, slapping the floor as loud guffaws poured from the tall, burly man's chest.

"Daniel Sorrows, I swear you must be twelve years old. The I.V." Kay demanded, holding her hand out.

Dan picked himself up from the floor wheezing from his gales of laughter.

He wiped tears from his eyes as he reached into his pocket and produced the aforementioned I.V.

"You better be happy. I nearly got a wedgie from that louse Nelson Latimer for this thing." Dan said as he followed Kay to the gurney.

"Looks to me like he's strong enough to go toe to toe with a mutant." Dan said.

"How ya feeling?" he asked a stunned Ezra.

"My mouth is dry and I'm kind of weak, but I'm just happy to be alive right now." Ezra said groggily.

Dan pinched Ezra's toe with an open-mouthed grin. Ezra returned the smile.

"Thank you Dan. Thank you so, so much."

Syble touched Dan's coat sleeve. He looked down at her.

She sniffled, cleared her throat and tried to speak.

"Dan… thank… thank…"

"Hey, what are friends for, huh?" Dan said.

He was surprised when Syble wrapped her small arms around Dan's arm and buried her soft warm face into the crook of his elbow.

"Thank you, sir, and… I'm sorry… I'm sorry for being mean to you earlier." Syble said as she sniffed and tried to keep from crying.

Dan looked to Curie and his playful grin left his face in exchange for a more somber look. He looked back down at Syble and softly, carefully placed his free arm around her back and returned her embrace.

"Hey, really. I mean it. It wasn't a problem."

Syble looked up at him, obvious remorse written all over her features. Dan saw her reddened eyes, the sun-tanned skin, the light trail of freckles across her nose and the wet tracks that evidenced her helplessness and worry and for once he couldn't think of a punch line.

"You're welcome Syble. And you don't need to worry about offending me."

Ezra smiled as he lay back again preparing to have the I.V. injected into his bloodstream.

Dan sat back against the nearest wall and rocked the shuddering nine-year-old girl in his arms. He looked to the orange kissed sky as the light continued to fade with more on his mind than when he had begun.


End file.
